Of The Night
by sixturns
Summary: Don't get me wrong, I don't hate Damon Salvatore. I just greatly dislike him.
1. Prologue

If there was one thing I knew for certain, it was that Damon Salvatore was probably the most obnoxious person I had ever met.

I've had a lot of time to think about this. There are probably case studies and focus groups about it. I've had the whole of my seventeen years on this planet to compile this information, and I think that makes me an expert. I would have called my field Demonology, but it unfortunately already had a negative connotation not associated with the person in question.

There were plenty of people competing against him for the luxury of Most Obnoxious Person Ever. Resting cozily at second place was Niklaus Mikaelson, affectionately dubbed Klaus by the entire student body. It only made sense for Damon and Klaus to be attached at the hip, because being together only enhanced the other's obnoxious levels to suffocating. It might be considered an art form in some countries.

Third place was Klaus' sister, Rebekah. She had the unfortunate habit of being related to Klaus, and obnoxiousness seemed to run thicker than blood in their veins. On more than one occasion I had suggested a transfusion, but my efforts were in vain. Her redemption was being one of my best friends, and a damn good one at that.

Fourth and fifth place had a habit of fluctuating. It usually depended on who annoyed me most that day, and they usually tended to be friends with Damon Salvatore. He infected the best people like a disease.

I should probably make it clear at this point that I don't _hate_ him. Hating someone requires too much energy and I'm not interested in devoting myself to that kind of cause. I greatly dislike him and the way he decides to portray himself to _everyone_. For a number of reasons. Take it a step further and call it a _plethora_ of reasons. What _are_ those reasons, you may ask? Well, there's something you need to know first.

Key facts about Damon Salvatore:

1) Salvatore was one of the Founding Family names, as well as Gilbert, which means I've had the unpleasant experience of dealing with Damon since we were in diapers.

2) He had hair reminiscent of Edgar Allen Poe's raven, and really, _really_ unfairly blue eyes. Seventeen-year-old Damon was a long way from five year old Damon that used to throw sand at me and hope some got in my eyes. I'd made peace with the fact that he was attractive. It would cause me more unnecessary stress to deny it.

3) Nothing was better known or more talked about in Mystic Falls than the falling out between Damon and his family.

* * *

**This is my first TVD fanfic, so the characters might be a little OOC. Anyway, I hope everyone likes it!**


	2. Chapter 1

"Elena, hurry up! Rebekah's threatening to leave you here if you don't get your ass in gear!" Caroline's lovely voice, albeit nasally, drifted up the staircase and into my bedroom, where I stood applying some make-up and giving myself one last once-over before leaving for school. The forecast was supposed to be hot and sunny and I dealt with it by wearing a sleeveless collared shirt tucked into navy shorts, my hair thrown up into a bun. I always found Monday mornings to be particularly harsh, so I tried a little harder than usual.

"I'm coming! Haven't you ever heard of a little _patience?" _I stomped down the stairs extra loud, taking care not to hit the weak step too hard. Mondays sucked, but broken necks sucked infinitely worse. I raised an eyebrow at Caroline once I hit the landing. "Maybe some compassion? Or possibly, I don't know, _both?"_

"You're hilarious," Caroline said flatly, a small smile fighting to break her annoyed expression.

I grinned. "Aw thanks, Care. I can feel the love and support."

Outside, a car horn beeped five times in rapid succession, meaning Rebekah was growing increasingly irritated. Caroline might've been joking, but I knew that Rebekah actually _would_ leave me here if I made her wait too long.

"Bye Mom, Dad!" I called up the stairs, and heard muffled, sleepy shouts of farewell back. My parents were not morning people, and had the luxury of being able to sleep in most weekdays. That's what happened when two trust fund babies decided to procreate and retire in their forties.

Caroline and I legged it to Rebekah's car, which was in the process of pulling out the driveway.

"Jesus Christ," I muttered, hopping into the backseat and throwing my bag across the seat. I glared at Rebekah's headrest.

"Why do you take so bloody long?" Rebekah's family originated in England, though she herself had lived in Mystic Falls for well over ten years. Her accent itself had become a little watered down, but she never dropped any of the colloquialisms. It was a little jarring at first, meeting someone like Rebekah in a little town like Mystic Falls, but you soon learned to embrace it with open arms.

"Why are you so_ bloody_ impatient?" I mocked, my voice throwing a poor imitation of Rebekah's posh one. "Would it have killed you to wait an extra two minutes?"

She twisted around in her seat to look at me, leveling me with a flat look. "Yes. It would have."

I rolled my eyes. "Stop being so melodramatic." Rebekah only scoffed in reply. The car fell into silence for an entire three minutes before Caroline snorted, sounding fantastically like a dying donkey, setting all of us off in turn. Laughter bounced around the car.

I wiped a tear from my eye, one of my hands clutching my stomach. "Every morning this happens," I said, "and we never learn. Ever."

Caroline turned and smirked. "I think it's pretty fun to watch, if you ask me."

In unison, both Rebekah and I said, "No one asked you."

"Did either of you see Jeremy leave the house when you got there?" I asked, realizing belatedly that I hadn't checked to see if he was awake before I left. Jeremy, in all of his fifteen-year-old glory, slept heavier than a log. I was 100% sure that he actually fell into a coma every time he went to sleep, and waking him before he was ready resulted in brain damage.

"He mumbled a hello to me before hopping into a car with that Anna girl and her older brother. Are they a thing now or what?"

I shrugged. "No clue. You try getting something out of Jeremy when he doesn't want to talk about it." Jeremy had been hanging out with Anna more and more lately, and while he maintained they were just friends, one glance at Anna and you could tell that she was smitten. It was revoltingly cute and made me want to smack some sense into his little peanut brain.

"Threaten to destroy his Xbox unless he spills all his secrets," Rebekah suggested casually. "Works on Klaus whenever I need something from him. And Damon, to an extent." Rebekah was the better Mikaelson because she had her older brother eating out of the palm of her hand. The tables were turned in the loveliest way.

Mystic Falls High turned up on the left side of the road and Rebekah pulled in, snagging the good parking space next to the campus green and only a few feet away from the main entrance. Nothing was worse than having to walk across a hot and crowded parking lot after a long day.

I stepped out of the car, slinging my bag onto my shoulder. As I turned to shut the car door, a shadow engulfed me and I briefly wondered if maybe a UFO had passed over the sun and the human race was going to be abducted by prodding aliens, until a deep voice spoke.

"Good morning to _you, _Gilbert."

Okay, so maybe there was something worse than getting abducted by aliens.


	3. Chapter 2

"Salvatore," I said primly, turning around and looking at the monstrous man-boy that had managed to blot out the sun. I had to look up to meet his eyes, which was annoying because I wasn't short. He was just annoyingly tall.

Caroline and Rebekah stood beside Klaus, shit eating grins mucking up their faces. I'd get my revenge later, particularly when Caroline was dancing around Klaus and any supposed feelings of affection he may have for her.

"Have a nice weekend?" Damon asked, clearly not going to give up.

I didn't answer.

"Dream of me, sweetheart?" His tone was overtly sexual and I wanted to crawl into a hole and die.

I gritted my teeth. "No, but I'm sure you dreamt of me, _sweetheart._" I could see Rebekah and Caroline desperately trying to stifle their laughter in my peripheral vision. I flipped them off and continued on my way to the main entrance desperately hoping it would be Caroline and Rebekah falling into step with me and not other certain unmentionable people.

Unfortunately, nothing works out for me.

"It's not very healthy to run away from your feelings. Did you miss me, Gilbert?" Damon asked, his voice all charm and arrogance. His black hair was messy and curled at the nape of his neck and behind his ears. Dark sunglasses shielded his eyes, but I didn't have to see them to know the look he was giving me.

"Tons," I said tonelessly. "I don't know how I ever survived the weekend without you."

Damon laughed, a rumbling chuckle from deep in his chest. "I'm glad to know you've finally accepted your love for me."

"I admire your ability to delude yourself."

"I only learn from the best, sweetheart." I had to bite my tongue then, to keep gallons of hateful vitriol from spewing out of my mouth and burning the skin off his annoying, pretty boy face.

I stopped walking abruptly. Damon went a full two strides ahead of me before he realized I wasn't there. When he turned back, he had one eyebrow raised.

"First things first," I began, my tone scathing. "Don't call me sweetheart. You might think it's cute but I find myself losing respect for you every time you insist on doing something I have clearly said before that I _don't_ like." I was struggling to keep my voice even and disinterested, but the anger was seeping in like poison. "And second? I have a boyfriend. I'd appreciate it if you'd understand that basic fact. I don't want to hate you, Salvatore. Don't give me reason to."

Damon's face was completely blank for a long second before a slow, easy grin spread across it. His teeth were too white and straight and it made me want to acquaint his face to my fist. I was sure it'd be a happily ever after. "Whatever you say, Gilbert. Sorry I tried to remove the stick that's lodged up your ass."

My cheeks burned red and I opened my mouth so I could whittle him down to the good for nothing prick he is, but I glanced to my left and saw people watching us. Whispering. Giving each other pointed looks.

Mystic Falls was a fish bowl. There was nothing you could do in this town that wouldn't be under constant scrutiny from everyone around you. _Especially_ if you were one of the Founding Families. School just magnified the lens, and I had no desire to be the specimen under it. Damon naturally attracted attention when you removed his family history from the equation. When you added it, everything about him suddenly became gossip-worthy. He reveled in it.  
_  
Elena Gilbert was seen having an argument with troubled Damon Salvatore in the school parking lot before homeroom? Elena Gilbert and Damon Salvatore were seen_ together?

The gossip mill might explode. I shuddered at the thought.

So I closed my mouth and instead turned away from him. From all the people, all the whispers. My back was hunched and I could feel the sun burning into my exposed shoulders. Where the hell did Rebekah and Caroline go? I swear to God when I saw them again I was going to tear them a new—

"Elena?" A familiar voice snapped me out of my murderous thoughts. Concerned blue eyes (different blue eyes, less intense and more boyish) stared into mine.

I grinned. "Hey, Matt," I said lightly, feeling the tension melt away from my shoulders. He bent down and gave me a quick peck on the lips before straightening up. His gaze went over my shoulder, and he squared his jaw.

"Salvatore," Matt said, nodding stiffly in Damon's direction. I looked over my shoulder to see that Damon was still standing a few feet behind me, sunglasses tucked into the collar of his shirt. His eyes were cold, hard and flat as a knife. They held a threat and to be quite honest, it pissed me off.

"Matty," Damon said in return, bowing his head and smirking. "Hope you're having a great day."

I scowled. "Fuck off," I hissed, and dragged Matt along with me to first period.

***  
The day went on as monotonously as usual. English and Spanish were okay, but I nearly fell asleep in Physics and very seriously considered plunging a pen into my eye socket during Calculus. Thankfully, fifth period was lunch and provided a much-needed break in the middle of my day. The weather was fine and I couldn't wait to spend the period lounged out on the campus green. I would probably take a nap, or hibernate until graduation. Either was a perfectly valid option.

I pushed open the main entrance door and shielded my eyes from all the light that suddenly assaulted my senses. For about three whole seconds I thought I finally knew what being blind was like.

As I stepped out of the building, stars dancing across vision, my foot snagged on the ridged piece of metal that lined the floor of the exit. I lurched forward, prepared for my face to hit the concrete, but an arm wrapped around my waist and pulled me back up in the nick of time.

I splayed my hand out against my savior's chest to balance myself, before looking up to thank them. The words nearly died in my mouth.

Because who else could it be, really, than Damon Salvatore? Who was glancing between me and my hand still pressed against his chest? Whose arm was still wrapped around my waist and was beginning to feel less comforting and more like a boa constrictor squeezing out my last breaths?

I snatched my hand away and pulled back, effectively putting a comfortable amount of distance between us.

I cleared my throat. "Thanks for keeping me from face planting, Salvatore."

There was a mischievous twinkle in his eyes, a smirk playing at the corners of his lips. "You should be more careful next time, Gilbert."

I raised an eyebrow. "I should, shouldn't I? I'll keep that in mind next time I'm temporarily blinded. I appreciate your concern."

"No problem, Gilbert," he replied, and I took that as my cue to leave and head to the picnic spot beneath the big tree on the green. There was a plaque nailed to the gnarled wood that declared it to be the oldest tree in Mystic Falls, but the Founding Families were fond of sticking a plaque on anything to make our boring little town seem more viable as a tourist pit stop.

Rebekah and Caroline were already waiting for me, a blanket spread out on the grass. More perks to getting the good parking spot.

I barely had a chance to sit down before they bombarded me with questions.

"Did I see what I think I just saw?"

"Did Damon and Elena actually have a semi-civil conversation?"

"Did Elena actually allow Damon to touch her and didn't chop his balls off for it?"

"Did I totally just imagine you telling him to fuck off this morning?"

I expertly avoided all of their questions by taking a swig of Sprite. The carbonation burned my throat and I almost choked. I would do so well under interrogation.

"Where's Matt?" I asked lightly, ignoring the blush staining my cheeks, eyes searching the general area for a blond head of hair. He usually came and ate with us most days, along with his friend, Tyler Lockwood, and maybe our friend Bonnie, depending on the day.

Rebekah narrowed her eyes. "Convinced him to run to the Grill to grab some lunch before he tried to insert himself where he wasn't wanted." Her gaze only grew more pointed. "He and Damon should be grateful, really, because I saved them both from castration."

A smile quirked at the corners of my mouth, but I said nothing. I had to keep my cool. Caroline and Rebekah were each a force in their own way, but together they were a force to be reckoned with.

Another minute and a half under Caroline and Rebekah's gaze, and I was spilling my secrets to the world.

"Okay, fine!" I said, throwing my hands up into the air in mock surrender. "About this morning, he just pissed me off. More so than usual. I can't stand it when he gets all annoying and smug and thinks he can do whatever he wants. I had to take him down a peg. And for just now? I tripped, he kept me from busting my face on the concrete, so I said thank you. My parents instilled me with manners, you know. Not my fault he got all grabby."

Caroline grinned, her normal, effervescent, bubbly personality turned up the max. When Caroline got like this, she was actually capable of stunning her prey into submission with a well-placed wink and grin. "Actually," she began, "I think the most important thing here is that your response to his grabbiness was delayed by a whole two minutes."

"I concur," Rebekah chimed, lounging on the blanket with one arm to prop her up. Her blonde hair fell in waves over her left shoulder and her sunglasses kept her looking beautifully disinterested.

"I didn't even know it was him at first!" I insisted, desperate to hold my ground. The entire duration of my friendship with Caroline and Rebekah had been plagued with their constant vigilance in believing that Damon and I were meant to rule Mystic Falls with an iron fist.

When their expressions clearly said they didn't believe me, I took a different approach. "I'll admit that I don't hate Salvatore. Yet. But I'm not his biggest fan either. He annoys me more often than not. Anyway, I'm with Matt. I'm _happy_ with Matt." I stressed the importance of the word happy, in case they didn't understand, or obstinately refused not to.

Rebekah's perfect eyebrows rose up. "Oh, you mean the end table?" Caroline snickered and I scowled.

"Matt isn't an end table."

"He kind of is, 'Lena. I'm totally supportve of your relationship and everything, those are your choices, but what do you even _see_ in Matt?" Caroline's doll-like face was painted with sympathy.

I frowned. "You know why, Care. Matt's dependable. He's always there for me. He's sweet and caring—"

"And never disagrees with you, worships the ground you walk on, and only feels the need to assert his quarterback manliness whenever you're around Damon. I don't know about you, but those seem like the qualities of a fantastically made end table to me." Rebekah rattled all this off in her usual bored tone while flipping through a magazine I hadn't seen her take out.

I opened my mouth to say something else when, speak of the devil, Matt walked over with a grease-stained bag from the Grill, smiling. Guilt tore at my insides.

When he sat down beside us, talking about whatever uninteresting thing happened on his way to the Grill, I let him kiss me and ignored the two particularly annoying blondes sitting across from me. 


	4. Chapter 3

I had decided pretty early on in my school career that P.E. just wasn't for me. I wasn't a fan of changing into the gym uniform and then running around the track with a bunch of people who had also decided that P.E. wasn't for them. No one put the same kind of dedication into a mandatory gym class that they put into sports, if they played one. I could usually do the bare minimum and get away with it.

Unfortunately, and I am genuinely stressing the importance of the word _unfortunately,_ it seemed like I wasn't going to get that luxury this year. Being apathetic with acquaintances was nice. It created a feeling of camaraderie.

Being apathetic with Damon Salvatore constantly trying to one-up you was the exact opposite of nice. Until now, I had managed to avoid him and Klaus by sticking close to Bonnie, my only immediate friend in the class, for any and all activities.

Unfortunately, spring also meant the beginning of Project Adventure. It's as excruciating as it sounds.

The entire unit was a bunch of team-building exercises and your participation was based on how well you cooperated with the other members of your team. Salvatore didn't annoy me enough for me to want to sacrifice my grade in an easy class.

I took a deep breath before I pushed open the door from the girls' locker room, mentally preparing myself for the ordeal. My hair had already mutinied and came loose from the bun while I was changing, and instead of attempting to fix it without the benefit of a mirror I threw it up into a pony tail.

"Hey, Bon," I greeted her as I plopped onto the bleachers. Inside the gym, they were wooden and therefore splintery and unforgiving.

Bonnie had her game face on, hair tied back and sneaker laces done up tight. "Hey, Elena. Are you ready for the inevitable?" She bit her lip to hide the grin. Much like Rebekah and Caroline, Bonnie found my interactions with Damon hilarious. Unlike Rebekah and Caroline, Bonnie didn't abandon me once he showed up.

"You mean being forced into close proximity with Salvatore?" I pursed my lips. "Never."

As his name left my lips, my eyes glided over the faces in the gym, all equally miserable in the wake of Project Adventure season. I found him on the other side, close to the door that led to the field outside with Klaus and his other best friend, Alaric Saltzman. Now that I'm thinking about it, Alaric is probably the owner of the fourth spot on the Most Obnoxious list.

A pair of fingers snapped in front of my face. "Elena!" Bonnie chastised, though her facial expression was filled with mirth. "If he catches you staring at him you'll never live it down and I'll have to hear about it for the rest of my natural life."

I couldn't think of a snappy comeback so I just rolled my eyes. "Want to head out to the field? We're doing that team tightrope thing."

Bonnie grimaced, any semblance of motivation completely drained from her face. "Team tightrope? This is going to go so, so badly. I can't balance for shit."

We trudged to the door, nodding at our teacher (who gave us an unnecessarily bright grin, probably in anticipation of our future pain and suffering), and entering into bright sunlight.

Team tightrope was, as its name might suggest, a team-building exercise that utilized tightropes. They weren't ridiculously high or anything; just high enough that falling onto your ass wasn't the most pleasant of experiences. The goal was to navigate your team across a series of tightropes and get to the platform on the other side successfully without someone falling. If someone fell, the whole team had to start over. I was convinced that it was actually impossible to accomplish.

Coach Curley blew his whistle and everyone was herded over to where he stood beside the platform for the first tightrope. Coach Curley was a short, stout man in his mid-forties who was very jolly for someone going through a nasty divorce and custody battle with his wife (ex) in Boston. Mystic Falls was a very small town.

"Today!" He began brightly, "Is the first day of Project Adventure! Come on now, clap it up," he was met with the very distinct sound of groaning. My gym class was at most about twenty students. I don't know what Curley was expecting.

He charged admirably on. The little gym teacher that could. "I'll make it short: your goal is to get everyone to the other side. If someone falls, you start over. Work on your team-building and problem-solving skills so you won't enter the world as completely incapable adults." Curley gave a little satisfied smile when he got a few chuckles out of his unmotivated audience. "I'll leave you to it."

Curley wandered off to observe us from a safer distance and it was as if the class converged on itself.

"I'm pretty sure that if we all refuse to do it, they can't penalize us," a girl from the back of the crowd, April, piped up. She was met with a few murmurs of agreement.

"Oh come on, this is easy. Just walk across the line and don't bust ass and you'll be fine," Damon said, pulling a hand through his hair as if it held all of the balance and grace that God had given him. Every eye was turned on him and I could visibly see him pull himself up taller, revel in the attention.

I scoffed out loud before I could even process it. Bonnie's arm flew into mine so fast I was worried there would be muscular bruising. That's how I became the subject of everyone's attention.

Damon was smirking at me. "Have something to say, Gilbert?" He asked, an eyebrow raised halfway to his hairline. Challenge was written all over his face.

I looked him in the eye and smiled because, much like dogs, looking away from Damon Salvatore was a sign of submission.

"I was just thinking that telling them not to bust ass isn't the greatest advice. Considering this is supposed to be a team effort and all." I eyed the first platform. The tightrope had to be around twenty feet long, maybe twenty-five before it ended at another platform. There were seven sections of tightrope before the course ended. In the back of my head, I briefly pondered the possibility of this falling under the category of institutionalized torture.

"Do you have better advice?" I had to think about this for several long seconds. Bonnie had a hand covering her mouth and Klaus and Alaric were speaking to each other in rapid and decisive hushed tones.

I turned from his Cheshire grin and looked around at the crowd of people. A boy named Luca had a sweatshirt draped over his shoulders and an annoyed expression on his face. Droplets of sweat were already beginning to gather around his temples. I glanced at his sweatshirt again and had a little bit of a light bulb moment.

Luca was neither short nor stout, though these two qualities were often attributed to him. It wasn't his physical appearance that warranted it, really, it was the fact that he once lost a bet and had to perform a rousing rendition of "My Little Teapot" in front of the whole school during lunch our freshman year. Luca was new and had yet to realize that the collective memory of Mystic Falls was similar to that of an elephant.

"Luca!" I exclaimed, and he was immediately put on edge.

"What?" More sweat dewed up at his temples and slid down toward his neck. I couldn't blame him, because the heat was bordering the line between unbearable and hellish.

I placed both of my hands on either of his shoulders and gave him a beseeching look. Luca and I had a quiet alliance. He seemed to be willing to help me with whatever I needed at the moment, allowing that it wasn't too insane, as long as I refrained from calling him "Short" or "Stout" whenever I saw him. I was and am a firm supporter of this deal.

"I need your help." To say the Luca looked a little bit perplexed would be an understatement. A quick tug and the sweatshirt was off his shoulders, dangling between us. I took it from him and promptly dropped it on the ground, facing Salvatore in the process, whose inherent smugness was crossing over in to the realm of confusion.

"Are you planning to do something illegal with Stout?" I raised an eyebrow and remained unimpressed. Bonnie snickered.

"No. I'm giving _advice."_

The gym congregation watched with amused expressions. I went with purpose over to the first tightrope and kicked off my shoes, socks and all. "Better traction," was all I said in explanation.

I stepped up onto the platform, keeping low as I walked across the tightrope because somewhere I'd stored away that it worked better in conjunction with a person's center of gravity.

It only took a few minutes for me to get across to the next platform.

"Okay Luca, your turn."

"I don't see why you didn't ask Bonnie for help."

"Bonnie can't balance for shit and I'm trying to prove a point." Luca let out one massive sigh and began his trek across the tightrope. As he went, I pointed out all the great things he was doing and all the terrible things. When Luca made it across safe and sound, I called for everyone to line up and flipped Salvatore the bird behind my back.

* * *

The second half of the day passed better than the first. I was the first to leave my ninth period history class, slipping my sunglasses onto my face to avoid potential blinding as I headed to Rebekah's car. When I got there, there was a flyer stuck beneath her windshield wiper. Actually, there was a flyer stuck beneath the windshield wiper of every single car in the lot. They were vibrant, highlighter pink, and 100% obvious.

I pulled it out and pushed my sunglasses onto my head to see it better. Bold-faced type declared the new construction of a mall on the outskirts of town. The company logo was a black oval with Pierce Industries spanning across the middle. My faced twisted into an ugly expression. Mystic Falls didn't have anything that could remotely be considered part of a chain or large corporation. It was very Mom, Pop, and Founding Family oriented.

"Who pissed in your cornflakes?" Rebekah asked jovially, waving a hand in front of my face to catch my attention.

"Pierce Industries. Did you know they're opening up a mall near the highway?"

"Right on the outskirts of town?"

My frown deepened. "That's the one."

Rebekah scoffed. "That makes absolutely no sense. Mystic Falls doesn't get much traffic. Our exit on the highway is nearly nonexistent and like, a dozen miles away from any kind of civilization in any direction. Putting a mall there might bring in some people but not enough. If anything, it might ruin business here."

I shrugged and handed her the crinkled sheet. "Read it and weep."

"What are we weeping about?" Caroline asked, appearing from thin air and leaning beside us on the hood of the car. Her nose was scrunched.

"They're building a mall near the highway," Rebekah said in a disapproving tone.

"Right on the outskirts of town?" Unlike when Rebekah expressed this sentiment only moments earlier, Caroline sounded absolutely delighted. I nodded, and Caroline squealed. "Thank _God_. I'm tired of driving two hours out to the closest college town just for a trip to the mall. The stores here are boring and everyone knows everyone so there's absolutely no room for change at _all. _How am I supposed to buy sexy underwear if the woman at the register was my old baby sitter? She saw me in _diapers,_ Elena._"_

I laughed. "The woes of living in a small town."

Rebekah crumpled up the paper and tossed it in the direction of the trash can near the school entrance. Whether it actually made it in or not isn't important.

"You're telling me."

* * *

"Mom! Dad! I'm home!" I called into house, slipping off my sandals and kicking them next to the other shoes lined up against the wall. Rebekah honked a good-bye at me before she pulled out of the driveway. I waved at her before I closed the door.

The house was remarkably empty of gunfire and Jeremy's frustrated cursing that usually accompanied his Xbox, so I assumed he wasn't home. Probably with Anna playing a game of tic-tac-toe around their feelings.

I dropped my book bag on the counter and headed for the kitchen, leftover pizza slices calling my name. It was a simple layout: the sink, stove, and fridge were all on the same side with an island of granite countertop opposite of it.

There was a note stuck to the door of the fridge, and I didn't even have to read it to know what it said. My mom and dad were out more often than not on spontaneous do-gooder trips. Part of the reason is that they both decided to retire very early in their careers because they were well off, dropping everything except managing the clinic in town.

I glanced over the smooth, loping letters that stretched across the paper:

_Gone away for the rest of the week—we left the MasterCard, order pizza or something and stay alive. Don't do drugs, don't get arrested, you know the deal. We love you!  
-Mom and Dad_

I let out a sigh powerful enough to lift a thousand sails and crumpled up the note. I tossed it and missed the trashcan by a large enough margin to feel a little embarrassed, but I was alone in my shame.

Three slices of pepperoni pizza were wrapped in tin foil, resting on the second shelf of the fridge. I maneuvered around a Tupperware of rice and something unidentifiable that probably shouldn't be available for consumption anymore to grab it, tossing them on a microwaveable plate and setting it in the microwave.

As I waited for the slices to heat up (very far away from the microwave because when I was nine, one of my dad's colleagues told me that standing in front of a microwave would cause my brain to absorb the radiation and then boom, cancer), I pulled my phone from my bag and shot a quick text to Jeremy.

_To: Jer  
Jeremy! Mom and Dad went away for the rest of the week. Should I order in or do you have plans?_

One of Jeremy's few redeeming qualities is that he was perpetually attached to his phone (though I couldn't really complain—we were alike in that way) and could answer a text in less than six seconds flat. I had just sent it and closed out of the window when my phone vibrated with his reply.

_To: Lena  
im staying at anna's for dinner. i'll text u when i'm on my way home_

I bit back a smile and had to refrain from bombarding him with excessive emojis, settling for a simple "okay" before tossing my phone on the counter. The microwave beeped and I grabbed my plate, biting into the first slice with relish. At least 93.4% of me preferred the taste of warmed up pizza to newly delivered. Grabbing my bag and phone, I took the pizza and myself to the living room, stretched out on the sectional, and began a very long and arduous Law and Order: SVU marathon.

* * *

_To: Elena :)__  
From: Caroline Forbes  
elena! guess what!_

_To: Carocurve  
From: Elena Gilbert  
what! Please tell me! Your excessive use of exclamation marks are giving me anxiety!_

_To: Elena :)__  
From: Caroline Forbes  
i saw jeremy and anna at the grill! or more specifically, _behind_ the grill!_

_To: Carocurve  
From: Elena Gilbert  
Ten bucks says they were making out and you embarrassed them. Please tell me that you did. This opportunity might never come again._

_To: Elena :)__  
From: Caroline Forbes  
what kind of best friend would i be if i didn't? ;)_

_To: Carocurve  
From: Elena Gilbert  
Oh my God what did his face look like? Was he traumatized? I hope he was traumatized because I'll never forgive him for telling my parents when Matt and I were going on our first date. They tried to double with us, Caroline! My parents tried to go on a double date with me!_

_To: Elena :)__  
From: Caroline Forbes  
i'm already on my way to yours, i took pictures and everything. it's really a beautiful moment that deserves to be shared in person._

* * *

**new chapters are gr8. This story is going to be an adventure for all of us. If you want to review, that'd be super cool~**


	5. Chapter 4

_Wednesday, 9:30 pm._

_To: Rebekah :)  
From: Caroline Forbes  
bex? could you bring me back to the grill? i think i left my wallet wedged in the seat at our booth_

_To: Caroline  
From: Rebekah Mikaelson  
I literally _just_ dropped you off. You have a car, go get it yourself._

_To: Rebekah :)  
From: Caroline Forbes  
fine :( i hate you anyway_

_Wednesday, 9:45 pm._

_To: Rebekah :)  
From: Caroline Forbes  
rebekah i need you to come to the grill right now. right fucking now._

_To: Caroline  
From: Rebekah Mikaelson  
Did someone die? Is my presence absolutely necessary?_

_To: Rebekah :)  
From: Caroline Forbes  
considering i just caught matt practically fucking someone who is _not elena_ in the grill parking lot, someone is about to._

_To: Caroline  
From: Rebekah Mikaelson  
I'll be there in two minutes._

_To: Matt Donovan  
From: Rebekah Mikaelson  
YOUR ASS IS FUCKING GRASS_

_To: Oh Dearest Brother  
From: Rebekah Mikaelson  
I need you to come to the Grill right now. Bring Damon. Bring Alaric. I don't fucking care, just show up and don't ask any stupid questions before you get here._

* * *

Mondays were soul-sucking but Thursdays were infinitely worse. On a Monday, you knew you had the rest of the week stretching a million miles long before you. On a Thursday, the worst thing happened. You had a little hope.

It's sort of like being Sisyphus and pushing that damn rock up the hill and almost getting there, _almost_, enough that you began to think of a future where pushing a rock up a hill would not be a part of it, until the rock fell down again. Waking up on a Thursday was pleasant for the three seconds you thought it was Friday.

I was mulling over this thought while I sat on the porch. First period began at 7:10 am and it was currently 6:55. Normally, Rebekah picked up Caroline at 6:30 and came by mine at 6:35. We usually made it to school at about 6:45 am, which was enough time to reach our lockers and maybe have a couple minutes of conversation before we got pulled in different directions for homeroom.

Today was different because Rebekah hadn't shown up yet. Very rarely was I ever outside and waiting for her. Jeremy had peaced out about fifteen minutes ago with Anna and I wished I had the foresight to hitch a ride with them.

_To: Fwbekah  
From: Elena Gilbert  
Did something tragic happen or did you body swap with Caroline and suddenly forget your anal-like ability for punctuality_

I waited two minutes and received no reply. I chalked it up to Rebekah's refusal to text and drive. 6:57 am.

_To: Carocurve  
From: Elena Gilbert  
Careeeeeeeeeeeee did Rebekah pick you up? Are you guys on your way or will I have to make the trek to school all by my lonesome and maybe get kidnapped and killed at seven o'clock in the morning._

Another two minutes and still no reply from either of them. I wished I had bothered to get my license or that my parents were home so I wouldn't be worrying if my two best friends got into a car accident. 6:59 am.

I decided to send a Hail Mary text to Matt, even though he was the worst texter in the history of texters and probably wouldn't reply to my message until we were old and gray and cell phones had become sentient.

_To: Matt Donovan  
From: Elena Gilbert  
Do you know where Rebekah and Caroline are?_

I waited five minutes this time, pinching myself to keep from biting my nails out of nervous habit. 7:04 am. Absolute radio silence. I could almost hear the white noise in my head.

I had made the decision to walk to school and was halfway down my driveway when a black Camaro pulled over and stopped neatly in front of me. The driver's side window rolled down and _of course._

"Need a lift, Gilbert?" Damon Salvatore, in all his dark-haired blue-eyed glory, asked.

I wanted to be annoyed but I currently had six minutes to make the ten minute trip to school and anxiety and a little bit of fear was coursing through my veins because more than a little part of me wondered if Damon was here because he knew something tragic that I didn't.

"Are my friends alive?" It was not the first thing either of us expected to come out of my mouth.

"Barbie and Bex? Yeah, they're fine. They sent me over here because they had some last minute stuff to handle and were going to be late for school, so I'm taking you. They'll meet you at lunch, or whatever." There was something different in Damon's voice and I couldn't figure out what it was.

I frowned but got in the car anyway, because I currently had six minutes to make the ten-minute trip to school and I wasn't exactly keen on walking into Mr. Duvall's first period physics class late. The man was a pervert and I was skeeved out enough by him already. I didn't put it past him to try to land me in after school detention just to play out some sick fantasy.

"What happened? Why didn't they call me? Or at least text me back? We went out to the Grill last night with Matt and Tyler and everything seemed fine." But aren't things not always what they seem?

"You're going to have to ask them that," He replied, voice tight, and jaw locked. His hands were bruised and gripping the steering wheel tight enough that the black and blue of his knuckles seemed to be stripped of a few shades of color. I could see no immediate reason for his anger, which meant that it had something to with my friends. And possibly my boyfriend?

I stayed quiet and instead looked around the car. I'd only been in Damon's car once before, and that was before it was ever "his". We were little and semi-friends and played hide and seek in his house. The car was often kept in the garage beneath a tarp. I remember thinking that it was like a book dust jacket for cars and that it'd be a perfect place to hide. Everything had seemed big then, but it was relatively easy to knick the keys from the hook near the door and sneak into the garage to hide.

It took Damon so long to find me that I ended up falling asleep, waking up to a car door being thrown open hard enough that it hit the wall and a ton of yelling. My parents had been ready to call the National Guard and grounded me for a month.

"Is there still a dent on the door?" I asked, genuinely curious.

Damon relaxed a little bit. "Yeah. I fixed nearly everything else in the car that needed fixing, so I'm a little strapped for cash in the dent-repairing department."

"Dents give it character. If someone asks you how it happened, you can tell them that a little girl fell asleep in your car and her parents nearly called the police in a panic to find her."

Damon chuckled. Chuckling seemed like a very old person thing to do. "Somehow, I don't think anyone will be impressed by that story. An Amber Alert is the last dedication I want."

I shrugged, feigning disappointment. "Your loss."

The radio hummed lightly, playing the Top 40 radio. The signal was surprisingly clear. That station was notorious for drifting in and out, sometimes residing in static like it was going to make a home there and procreate. I felt a little off, because Damon wasn't being himself and we were most likely already late for school and he knew something that I didn't.

There was a crumpled up pink neon paper wedged in the little compartment beneath all the knobs for the radio. I pulled it out, expecting the mall construction flier. I was not mistaken.

"What do you think about this?" I asked, smoothing it out on my lap before holding it up to him. Damon glanced at it for a few seconds before looking back to the road.

"The mall they're building right on the outskirts of town?"

"That very one."

"That it's a terrible idea but having a place to go to other than the Grill would be fucking fantastic. On the other hand, the mall being there might make the Grill and everything else in this godforsaken town non-existent."

"You're very economically conscious."

"Gilbert, you'd be lying straight to my face if that isn't the first thing you thought when you saw the flier."

I rolled my eyes. "Actually, the first thing I thought when I saw it was 'Wow, that's really a bright flier, I wonder what it says' and then I thought 'This is probably gonna end up like the time we almost got a McDonald's.'" To my surprise, Damon actually laughed. I grew uneasy, because while it wasn't a forced laugh, it wasn't entirely natural either. Maybe he was picking up on how unusual the situation we were currently in actually was?

"My parents bitched for _days_ when that happened. I've never seen the Founder's Council rally together like that for something that wasn't a gala or putting a historical plaque on a tree."

I hummed my agreement and the conversation faded back into tense silence. I wondered when the drive to school got so long. I glanced at the dashboard clock. 7:11 am. So much for not walking into Duvall's class late. I groaned out loud.

"Is this proximity too much for you, Gilbert? Because I'd gladly—"

"First of all, no. Hell no. Not even in your wildest dreams. Second of all, we're already late and God knows how Duvall is going to react. The perv is probably going to stick me with detention and then I'll end up on the five o'clock news—"

"Don't joke around like that, Elena." I was caught off-guard by 1) The sudden seriousness in his voice and 2) The fact that he used my first name. We never called each other by a first name. Not even at the galas our parents forced us to attend. It was like an unspoken rule (it seemed we had a lot of unspoken rules) and he just broke it.

"What do you know that I don't, Salvatore?" The school was visible in the distance, an American flag waving from the top of the flag pole.

"If you really want to know the answer to that, you'll be late to more than just physics." He wasn't looking at me and it was pissing me off.

"Answer the question."

"I really don't think I have to answer anything, actually."

"Salvatore."

"Gilbert."

Static-y pop music filled the air between us, a love-torn song about giving up.

"_Damon."_

_"Elena."_

We were toe to toe in this battle and neither of us was going to back down. I didn't even notice we had arrived at school until Damon took his keys out of the ignition, the steady hum of the engine falling silent.

"I'm not an idiot. Something is going on and I want to know what it is. Did something happen at the Grill last night after I left? How do you even know about it? Rebekah told me that you and Klaus were hanging out at Ric's for the night."

Damon got out of the car, backpack slung over his shoulder, and slammed the door shut. Before I even had a chance to comprehend what he just did, he had walked over to my side and opened the door for me. I scowled because it was a nice thing to do and I didn't want to associate Damon Salvatore with nice things.

"After you, your Highness." Damon held out his hand in a large gesture to the entire empty parking lot.

As I got out, he stood in front of me, sunglasses having miraculously appeared on his face. "Look, Bex threatened to castrate me if I told you what was going on before she and Barbie did. Normally that would mean that I'd tell you anyway, except the Mikaelson's are a terrifying family and she would probably do it." Damon's jaw clenched. "Plus, I promised I wouldn't hit anyone today."

"What do you mean _hit—?"_

"Oh, look at the time. It's 7:20. You're already ten minutes late—don't want to push it, do you?" It was as if being on school grounds brought out Damon's inner douche. Like it was a stage, or something.

"I'm going to push you off the tightropes," I muttered, stalking off toward the door. If Damon thought—if anyone thought, actually—that I was going to give up and accept defeat that easily, they had another thing coming. Rebekah and Caroline and even Damon could hold off my questioning, but if there was anything about _Matt_ that I was sure I knew, it was that he was fantastically weak-willed under pressure.

In other news, Duvall gave me detention.

* * *

I found Matt on my way to lunch. It was perfect, because it seemed as if everyone else I considered a friend was either avoiding me or knew something that I didn't. My skin felt itchy beneath the weighted gazes.

It was a stroke of luck that I saw him before he saw me.

"Matt!" His head snapped in my direction, his face wearing the same expression Jeremy's did when he came home the night Caroline caught him making out with Anna. He was also sporting a hell of a black eye. At what point was a black eye no longer considered a black eye? Was it when the bruise had actually spread across half of your face?

I cupped his face, running a gentle thumb over the bruise. He nearly flinched out of my grip.

"What the hell happened? Who hit you?" Is this what they were hiding from me? Had someone tried to beat up Matt at the Grill last night? I was at an utter loss for words.

Matt seemed bewildered, a little bit like a deer stuck in headlights. "They didn't tell you?"

"No one's told me anything. It's really annoying, actually, because somehow even Salva—" Wait. Matt has a black eye. Damon has bruised knuckles.

"_Are you fucking kidding me_? Did Salvatore do this to you?" I hissed, whirling around and heading for the cafeteria. I was on a rampage. I could kill a man. I would kill a man. I couldn't believe Salvatore had the fucking gall to beat up my boyfriend and then drive me to school this morning like everything was all fucking sunshine and rainbows and unicorns. And that Rebekah and Caroline knew about it! And didn't say anything to me at all!

"No no no no no, Elena, wait a second. I have to tell you something. The situation with Salvatore isn't exactly what it seems—" Matt's words were taking too long to spill from his mouth.

"What do you mean, it isn't what it seems? You have a black eye, Salvatore has bruised knuckles, and you're trying to tell me that it isn't _what it seems_?" At some point, we had started to draw a crowd. I saw two blonde heads push towards the front but chose not to acknowledge them.

Matt's eyes were darting all around the hallway. He couldn't even look at me.

"I kind of deserved it," he said lowly, examining the speckled floor tile like it was the Mona Lisa.

I stopped cold. Rage simmered in my veins. "Deserved it?"

"I…um…" Matt was falling into himself, staring up and down and all around. "Yesterday, after I dropped you home from the Grill…I went back. And I met someone else."

"_Someone else_?" The people that had gathered around us were being forced away. I was grateful for it.

I was sure that my eyes were beginning to water with tears but I couldn't move a muscle to test my hypothesis.

"Caroline caught me cheating on you with someone else, and I'm so sorry, I'm so fucking sorry, Lena, I just—" Matt Donovan didn't get to finish because I slapped him hard across the face, hard enough to bruise, on the side that wasn't already black and blue.

Then I promptly left the building. 


End file.
